


Coat flipping, hands helplessly swinging

by Natalia_lives



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Endverse, Fallen Angel, becoming human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 17:45:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14086236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natalia_lives/pseuds/Natalia_lives
Summary: "Dean always believed, that ‘fallen angel’ was just a figure of speech. Given there were no angels. And he ought to know that, he knew enough of supernatural creatures. And until recently it was like this.  Then the door of an old barn got blasted in and in walked an angel of the Lord. And his life got turned upside down there on. "





	Coat flipping, hands helplessly swinging

Dean always believed, that ‘fallen angel’ was just a figure of speech. Given there were no angels. And he ought to know that, he knew enough of supernatural creatures. And until recently it was like this.  Then the door of an old barn got blasted in and in walked an angel of the Lord. And his life got turned upside down there on.

 

* * *

 

 

After the so called _Apocalypse_ began, life pretty much still went on. They couldn’t just decline into self destruction. The will of fighting back, to survive was still beating strong in them. Bobby’s house, which already was some sort of a ‘head quarter’, officially became one. Under Dean’s lead, they gather as many friend, hunter, acquaintance, friend’s friend as many as they could as step one. Step two was to move into _Camp Chitaqua_ and turn it into a defensible stronghold.

It was late afternoon. Dean stood outside the house with Castiel. The angel, thanks to his fast transporting ability became a form of messenger between the groups who were headed here. He just arrived from a hunter a bit further away who sent over some valuable information to Dean. But there was still a message and a few other important objects he had to deliver to those, who were already at the campsite.

In his usual cool manner, he nodded to Dean, then as always just vanished into thin air. Dean chuckled to himself dryly, he will never get used to this. He took one last slip from his beer and was about to turn and head back to the house when a loud and painful cry ripped through the air. He looked up to the sky and for a moment didn’t understand what he saw. Then his eyes grew big and filled up with frightened incomprehension.

It was Castiel. The angel. Falling from the heavens. Literally. Coat flipping, hands helplessly swinging.  

Dean couldn’t take off his eyes from the falling figure; he took a few unconscious steps backwards, before turning and running back into the house. “Help! I need help!” He shouted.

 

* * *

 

 

They found Castiel in the middle of a nearby cornfield. He lay there bloody and unconscious. Dean hurriedly kneeled next to him. Thankfully there was a faint pulse. The four men who came with him, carefully picked up carried the angel toward Bobby’s house. Dean stayed a bit behind, looked around. He wanted to understand what caused this. He couldn’t find anything definitive but on either side of the place where Castiel fallen, not far away in the corn field there were two other clearings, where the corns were trampled down. He couldn’t really make out the form or what could do that, but he sure hoped Cas would know.

Not knowing the cause, Bobby thought the best place for the still passed out angel, would be the panic room. The men laid him on the bed then left. Dean leaned on the small table by the wall and with glassy eyes stared down at his friend. His mind went numb. It was self-defense, he really didn’t need to think through what loosing the angel might mean to him. Not after what happened in Detroit…

 

* * *

 

 

Dean was sleeping, head resting on the table when the crashing sound of glass woke him up. He jerked up and looked for Castiel. He was standing by the once small mirror, and judged by its shape just punched it.

“Cas?” Not seeing the other’s face at first, Dean’s voice was careful. “Cas, what happened back there?”

 “They left.” The angel’s voice was eerily calm opposed to the visible tension in his body. “The angels. They left.” He turned around. Face blank. Eyes distant yet focused.

Not knowing what could this mean, how to react, Dean stood up and carefully asked. “And?”

“And?!” Castiel’s voice was cynically calm. “And you ask. I am no longer an angel now. The gates of Heaven have been close, sealed off. They cut me out.” While saying these he stepped closer and closer to Dean, stopping just in front of him. “I am a human now…” He whispered almost contemptuous.  Dean didn’t know what to say. He just stared at the once angel. Finally as he was about to say something, Castiel stepped away from him.

“Go.” He said firmly.

“Cas - “

“Dean! Go!”

Mind still somewhat numb processing the information and a bit scared of what a once, now fallen and very visibly angel could do to him, he left.  He was at the head of the stared when he heard the heavy steel door closing loudly.

 

* * *

 

 

Bobby was sitting behind his desk. Scrolling through books for probably the last time. He heard sounds coming from the kitchen and looked up sharply. It was Castiel. He was looking for a glass, upon finding it, picked up the whiskey from the counter and headed toward Bobby.

He looked nothing like himself. Bare footed, coat, jacket, tie lost, shirt untucked, sleeves carelessly rolled up, hair tousled. But Bobby thought this was all nothing compared to his face. All his features were numb, unconcerned, eyes light-less. His state scared Bobby, but more than that, he felt immensely sorry for him. Dean told him.

Castiel put the glass down at the table, poured from the whiskey and put it in front of Bobby. Then with the bottle he sank into the armchair. With a mirthless smile he smirked at Bobby and took a swing from the bottle.

“Where are the others?”

“They went on one last longer scavenging run before moving to the camp.” Bobby said in his usual voice. Acting differently, more attentively around hurt people only made them angry. He would know…

“Oh” Was all what Cas said.

That was the first night he got drunk as a human.

 

* * *

 

 

On the next day afternoon, still a bit hangover Cas stepped into the living room.

“Son, you look terrible!” Bobby said after inspecting him. Cas just looked down at himself. Maybe the old hunter was right, but with puzzled look he stared back at him.

While taking a big breath and pulling up his shoulder Bobby said annoyed. “There’s a closet at the end of the corridor, pick some new clothes from there.” He shook his head and rolled toward one of the shelf. Cas stood at the door for a moment longer, staring at Bobby, then slowly left the room.

 

* * *

 

 

It was around 2 am. Bobby couldn’t sleep, so he rolled into the kitchen in the hope of finding something nerve smoothing. It was mostly dark in the kitchen; only one small lamp was flicked on in the other room. It had a weak light. Still searching, something bright appeared in his peripheral visage. He turned his head left and rolled to the window.

It was Cas. Standing by the shadow of a smaller fire in the backyard. Bobby couldn’t make out at first, what was the dark thing he threw into the fire, but when a light coloured trench coat followed it he got it.

It was Castiel, once an _angel of the Lord_ , burning up the last reminders of his past…

**Author's Note:**

> This just sort of happened instead of sleeping - how I presume most of the fics around here got created...   
> Thank you for reading it! :)


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